A Knight & His Lady
by Lady Dudley
Summary: Moriarty's not dead, but following his recapture, Sherlock comes to finish the fairy tale.


**A/N: After writing 'Black' I decided I needed some fluff and this idea has been floating around in my head for a while. Based on the idea that Moriarty faked his own death as well. Not the best, but I hope you like it anyway :)**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

_**A Knight & His Lady**_

James Moriarty was once again in Mycroft Holmes' custody and, this time, would not be released.

Sherlock Holmes regarded him through the one-way mirror for a long moment before entering the room.

Moriarty's face brightened, "I usually hate being proved wrong but how nice to know you're not ordinary."

Sherlock ignored his comment as he took the seat opposite him at the table, folding his hands in front of him.

"I'm curious though," Moriarty began, leaning in, "however did you pull it off?" he asked in a conspiratorial tone.

"You left out an important detail in your fairy tale," Sherlock informed him blandly.

"I did?" Moriarty asked, sitting back and looking a little confused by the turn in the conversation.

"You forgot that every knight has a lady and that Sir Boast-a-lot's was Constance Goodheart," Sherlock explained; Moriarty's eyes narrowed.

"In fact, most people forget about Constance Goodheart," Sherlock continued, "meaning they never notice her hidden depths or how very important she was to Sir Boast-a-lot." He paused, "And she was, very important. Sir Boast-a-lot knew that even if the King and his knights – even if his brother-in-arms – turned against him, she never would."

Sherlock suppressed a smirk at the scowl on Moriarty's face.

"It was Constance Goodheart who gave Sir Boast-a-lot the strength and the support he needed to finally defeat the man who sought to destroy him," he continued, "and _that_ is the end of the story."

The silence that greeted the end of his tale stretched on until it almost became uncomfortable, but Sherlock was determined not to break it.

He knew that Moriarty wanted to know more about 'Constance Goodheart' and although it was a topic that he could quite happily talk about for hours, he wasn't about to do so with Moriarty.

Eventually he stood up and went to the door.

"Will Sir Boast-a-lot and his Constance Goodheart go on to live happily ever after?" Moriarty asked; breaking the silence and sounding terribly bored with the whole idea.

Sherlock turned back to look at him, his hand still on the doorknob, "Perhaps," he said enigmatically and left the room.

"'Sir Boast-a-lot,' I'll have to remember that," John commented as Sherlock came to join him.

Sherlock rolled his eyes but said nothing as he fixed his scarf and led the way out of the secure facility.

"'Constance Goodheart' might be a bit of a mouthful though, I think I'll just stick with 'Molly,'" John teased, watching as Sherlock hailed a cab and noticing the pink tinge that spread across his cheeks.

"That's the funny thing about stories," John continued, climbing into the cab after Sherlock, "they say an awful lot about the storyteller. Names, for example, can be particularly-"

"Do you have a point?" Sherlock interrupted irritably.

"Not really," John replied cheerfully, "I'm just pleased you're finally noticing the people in your life."

"I've always noticed Molly," Sherlock grumbled, turning to look out of the window.

"But how long has she been your _Constance Goodheart_?" John pressed.

Sherlock glanced at him, before looking back out of the window as the cab came to a stop.

"I'd tell you, but you wouldn't believe me," Sherlock muttered, climbing out of the cab.

John took a moment to process his comment before moving to follow him, he stopped at the door when he caught sight of Sherlock actually bounding up the stairs to St Bart's in order to relieve Molly of the pile of books she was carrying.

He smiled as Sherlock was rewarded for his efforts with a peck on the cheek, which apparently wasn't enough as Sherlock caught her elbow and pulled her in closer.

Still smiling, John turned to pay the driver, giving them some privacy.

It really didn't matter how long Molly had been Sherlock's 'Constance Goodheart,' the point was that now she really _was_ his lady.

...

**A/N: I didn't want to spoil anything by mentioning 'Constance Goodheart' at the start; the name isn't mine. It's a long story but, basically, it's from _Star Trek: Voyager_ but I thought it fit :)**


End file.
